


Between your love I shall survive

by blablabla123



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chronic Pain, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26356501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blablabla123/pseuds/blablabla123
Summary: Yen has an episode and guess who's there for her..
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Kudos: 15





	Between your love I shall survive

An angry compressing pain at her lower back was what stirred her.  
Groaning loudly she blinked against the offending beams of sunlight, falling in through the haphazardly closed curtains. With every sense that sharpened, the throbbing ache grew wilder and wilder, until it radiated to her stomach. Willing herself to breathe deeply, she reached behind her, digging a useless thumb into her tight muscles in a desperate attempt to soothe the pain. Geralt turned beside her, slowly waking. Not meaning to disturb his much needed rest, she tried to wiggle out from under the sheets to try and get through the episode in the bathroom, but found herself unable to move. Geralt’s lids quivered before he opened them heavily. Her cramped grimace startled him and he indistinctively took her balled up fist into his hand, squeezing it affectionately.  
“What’s wrong, Yen? Are you in pain?”  
His voice was still drowsy from sleep, but the apprehension lay thick in it.  
She didn’t manage an answer as she was fighting the overwhelming urge to retch. Geralt sat up, then, looking her over. At noting her other hand clutching at her back, he tentatively removed it to press his fingers into the strained fibres.  
“Is it your spine?”  
He inquired quietly as he worked the spasmic muscle with gentle pressure. Yennefer couldn’t do more than moan at the hint or relief his sure hands elicited.  
“Just breathe.” he instructed calmly, never ceasing the repetitive movement.  
“It’ll pass.”  
There was a knock at the door and a creak of the hinges as Jaskier entered the room, freezing on the spot, when he saw them in their odd position.  
“Morning guys..” He tried, gawking at them somewhat baffled.  
“What are you doing?”  
“Yen’s having an episode.” Geralt grunted curtly, never drifting his attention from Yennefer’s back.  
“An episode? What episode?” The confusion evident in his tone, he stepped closer reticently.  
“Get over here and help.” Geralt beckoned him over with a brisk jolt of his neck. Jaskier conceded, cautiously closing the distance between them.  
“What do you -? Oh!”  
Geralt grabbed his wrist and pushed his fingers into the places that needed more attention.  
“Like that.” Jaskier nodded and did as he showed him. Yennefer still couldn’t move, jaw clenched, breaths shallow, she struggled to regain control over her body.  
“Yen, is it getting better? Talk to us.”  
Jaskier asked after a while. Yennefer just shook her head into the pillow.  
“It’s a bad one.” Geralt mumbled, hurting to see her like that.  
“What exactly is happening? Does she need a doctor? Does this happen a lot?”  
Jaskier was starting to worry.  
“She’s had major spine surgery, when she was a child. She gets these very painful flares occasionally. Usually it should abate within a few minutes, but I’ve seen it last an hour or so.”  
“Don’t you have something to take for the pain, Yen?”  
Geralt exhaled loudly.  
“Nothing will touch it.” There was almost a sense of helplessness in his words and the look he gave him when he locked eyes with Jaskier, chased a chilling ripple through him.  
“Geralt.” Came Yennefer’s croaky voice, muffled by the cushions.  
“What do you need, Yen?.”  
“I need to throw up.”  
“Oh shit.” Jaskier stood back as Geralt rolled her rigid body around to hoist her into his arms and quickly carry her into the bathroom. Before the toilet he helped her lower onto her knees, just in time for her to vomit violently.  
“Jesus christ. I didn’t know it gets this bad.” Jaskier said, awkwardly leaning into the door frame. Geralt, holding back her hair, rubbing her back in calming patterns, hummed in agreement. He remembered the first time he saw this happen. He had panicked and very nearly called an ambulance. It was hard to watch, especially knowing that she had to just fight through it and that there wasn’t anything you could do about it. When there was nothing left in her, but bitter bile, Geralt pulled her up, coaxed her to rinse her mouth and with his help, she made it back to the bedroom on foot.  
“Floor.” She mumbled before they reached the bed and Geralt, knowing what she wanted, supported her under the arms as she lowered herself onto the ground, curling up into a ball of misery. The hard surface provided some relief for her stiff joints. Geralt came to sit down next to her, gingerly brushing a few stubborn strands of hair off her face.  
“How are you feeling, Yen?” He sounded hopeful.  
“Still hurts. Keep going?”  
She rolled her eyes up to meet his’.  
“Of course.” He smiled at her encouragingly and moved to position himself behind her again.  
Jaskier, standing over them, wrung his hands.  
“What can I do?”  
“Just come here.” Yennefer muttered, stretching her arm toward him weakly.  
“Get the oil form the night stand, first.”  
He brought the requested and settled on the floor next to her pitiful form. Taking her cold hands into his, he leaned his forehead against hers, making an effort to breathe as deeply and thoroughly as possible, giving her an anchor to aim for. Once Geralt’s fingers were coated with the lubricant and were gliding across her skin much easier, he got a chance to really begin to work the knots out of her muscles. His fingers moved from the dimples in her hips toward her sacrum, lower all the way to her firm cheeks. It forced whimpers of both equally pain and pleasure from her lips that Jaskier hushed with a kiss every time.  
“That’s it, Yen. Just breathe.” Geralt encouraged, finally feeling the tension seep out of her little by little. With the ease of her cramped up fibres, her emotions crashed in on her, overwhelming her so much that she started to sob.  
“Hey, hey.” Jaskier startled at seeing her so broken. She had always seemed so otherworldly strong to him. He felt his chest tighten when he carefully eased her into his arms, holding her to him as closely as possible. He searched for Geralt’s eyes, which weren’t nearly as worried as his own. He squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.  
“This is good.” He assured him, even smiling a bit.  
Shifting his focus back to Yen’s back, still tight and sore, he kept talking:  
“Let it all out, Yen. Let it go. Shhh. You’re doing so good. You nearly made it now.”  
Jaskier just held her, occasionally running idle fingers through her dishevelled locks. There, at his heart, she eventually calmed down, her breaths evened out and her heart rate slowed. The pain abated to a faint and dull throb. Beside her Geralt collapsed onto the floor, folding her into his arms as well, so she was safely tucked between them. She relished their comforting touch, gripping onto both of them like a lifeline. They stayed in that position for a long while, neither moved. All of them exhausted from the pain. When she finally spoke, her voice lay thick with emotion:  
“Thank you, Geralt. I love you so much.” She turned around to face him, cupping his cheeks and pulling him in for a thorough kiss.  
“I love you.” He responded easily and smiled. He helped her turn back towards Jaskier to repeat the action.  
“Thank you, Jask. I’m sorry if I scared you.”  
“Whoa, whoa. Don’t ever apologize for your pain, Yen. I’m sorry you have to go through this. I had no idea. I love you.”  
The start of a coy smile made her lips quiver.  
“I love you, too.”


End file.
